A Woman Made for Pleasure (8 page)

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Authors: Michele Sinclair

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BOOK: A Woman Made for Pleasure
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Millie twirled around the private alcove, feeling free to be herself for the first time that evening. “Indeed. I might have let it slip that if it was a beautiful and
available
woman’s attention he sought, Mrs. Wollsen would be amenable. She’s lovely, intelligent, and searching for a new partner.” She stopped twirling and chuckled to herself. “Remind me to inquire if he
embraced
my suggestion.”
Shock filled Chase’s expression. “Mildred Aldon, what in all that is holy is going through your mind?
Ladies
do
not
suggest paramours to men they barely know!” Sensing her imminent retort, he added, “Not to any man—ever!”
She placed her hands on her hips and tried for a cool, amused tone. “Excuse me? Should I call him back and declare that I have had second thoughts and would love to entertain the idea of him as a suitor?” Watching Chase stumble about for a quick reply, but finding none, Millie snorted, “That is what I thought.”
Chase’s mouth tightened. “How did you even know of Mrs. Wollsen’s particular inclinations?”
Her chin came up proudly. “I didn’t. At least not until I met her a few hours ago, and then her intentions became quite obvious. Upon introductions, I sensed a bit of friction from her, but once I conveyed that neither Aimee, nor Jennelle, nor I intended to encourage
any
man’s attention . . . we got along splendidly. I do hope we can become good friends. She was quite intelligent and capable of stimulating conversation.” Millie paused and gazed wistfully around the room. “Something that seems to be lacking in most of the ladies of the
ton
wandering about tonight. Jennelle must be going mad.”
Chase’s head was spinning. “I’m going to regret this, but I must ask. How did you
convey
your intentions? Did you tell Mrs. Wollsen of your marriage plans, or lack of them?”
Millie wrinkled her nose, and once again Chase found it strangely appealing. “Of course not. Your mother would be horrified and extremely ashamed if any of us verbalized our promise in public. I used . . . a type of... woman’s language.”
Chase rubbed the back of his neck. “You could try a saint, Mildred. Explain. And do not attempt to tell me that you can read and send thoughts.”
She crossed her arms and looked at the tall, frustrated figure in front of her. “Sometimes, Charlie, you propose the strangest ideas. Suffice it to say—and you will just have to take my word for it—that women have other ways of speaking to each other beyond that of speech.”
“Millie . . .”
“No, seriously, Charlie. I’m being earnest. A man and a woman could meet another couple on the street and exchange greetings and walk away. The men would have thought from the conversation that their companions knew each other and were friends. However, in reality, both women told each other quite the opposite. I don’t know a better way to explain it. There are just some things women can best say without using any words. And
that
is how Mrs. Wollsen knew I was no threat.”
Chase nearly choked on her response. “Bloody hell. Come with me,” Chase said, bridling his inner thoughts.
As he grabbed her wrist again, she managed to utter, “Where are we going?”
He stopped abruptly and faced her. “I am either going to throttle you, kiss you into submission, or dance with you. Given we are at a ball, and what my mother’s reaction would be to the second suggestion, that leaves dancing. Believe me, if all things were equal, dancing would not be my preference.”
Seconds later Millie was whisked into a waltz, gracefully performing one spin after another. Despite their difference in size, she and Chase moved remarkably well together, as if their sense of timing and balance had been tuned only for each other.
Millie wanted to ask which of the remaining suggestions had been his preference but was afraid he would reply with throttling. So she remained silent and enjoyed the first pleasant dance she had experienced all evening. She had never waltzed with Chase before, and now that she had several other dances to relate it to, she knew there was no comparison.
Chase thought he handled the rest of the evening superbly, all things considered. He danced with his sister and Jennelle and again with Millie. And all three were out of character. Instead of the daring, outspoken women he knew them to be, they held themselves as refined ladies with impeccable manners, graceful in all ways, including conversation. No one would guess their true natures. He was about to suggest they leave for the next event, when he was suddenly accosted by a beautiful woman in a pale blue dress with her hair dressed in ringlets.
“Oh no,” Aimee whispered.
The tone in her voice caught Millie’s attention. “What?”
“That Selena woman has Charles trapped.” Aimee, Jennelle, and Millie had been surprisingly successful in their covert plans to keep the shrew away from Chase, but the woman was relentless.
Damn her lack of height. Desperately, Millie sought some way of looking over the multitude and seeing what her tall friend witnessed so easily.
Jennelle gasped as she saw Millie climb onto the edge of a potted plant. “Millie! Get down from there!”
Millie ignored her friend’s plea as she spied Chase walking arm in arm with the yellow-haired vixen who called herself a debutante. He was smiling, and as he disappeared outside, Millie witnessed him laughing. Actually
laughing
. Forgetting where she was, Millie stomped her foot, missing the edge of the pot. Instantly, her slipper was soaked in mud.
“Bloody hell.”
“What? What happened?” Then Jennelle saw Millie’s face. “What did you do?”
“Help me down from here. Aimee, you might want to go locate your mother. It appears we will be leaving shortly.”
Aimee looked relieved. “Thank you, Millie, for coming up with a reason for us to depart.” Aimee kissed her friend’s cheek and rushed off to find her mother.
Jennelle was not so easily mollified. “Though I echo Aimee’s sentiments about leaving, what actually happened?”
Millie lifted up the hem of her dress and showed the grimy results of her impulsive behavior. “Do you think anyone noticed?”
Jennelle exhaled, shaking her head. “No, most likely not. Even standing on that pot you barely were above normal height.”
Millie grimaced. “I hate the feel of mud between my toes.”
“You? The queen of all things adventurous?”
Millie shot Jennelle a scathing look. “Stop it. That was no adventure. That was just a dismal display of clumsiness. Whatever is Charles thinking?”
“Charles?”
“I mean Charlie.”
“You said Charles.”
“Same person. What’s the difference?
You
call him Charles.”
Jennelle smiled as if she had some secret that others would dearly love to know. “Oh, it is just that I do not recall ever hearing you refer to Charles by any name other than Charlie. But as you said, completely insignificant,” she finished mischievously.
Millie was about to clarify Jennelle’s obvious attempt to read into something that was not there, when Cecilia Wentworth arrived.
“Oh dear.” Cecilia looked at the pot that had done the deed and sighed in understanding. “Well, I suppose one must improvise when one needs to observe a man.”
Not wanting to explain who the man was or why, Millie remained silent. Jennelle and Aimee protectively gathered around Millie to hide the bottom of her dress as they moved toward the front door. They said their good-byes and made their way to the Wentworth carriage.
No one saw the man in the shadows silently watching them. He quashed his rage. He would have other chances, he reminded himself. Plenty of opportunities. He was, after all, a man of means, money, and title.
 
 
Once inside the private rolling sanctuary, Cecilia sighed and removed her gloves. “Well, we departed a little earlier than I planned. No doubt, most believe we are on our way to the next crush of the evening, and therefore we will receive no undue notice. You were all a smash hit, and I am proud of each of you.”
Millie envisioned a supple, tall viper attaching its hooks into Chase. “It appears our entire party was successful. Some so much they are still being entertained and are unaware of our departure.”
Cecilia waved her hand, dismissing Millie’s telling comment. “Do not overly think on such matters. I sent a message to Charles letting him know we were leaving early and that I would send the carriage back around for him.”
“Oh no,” Aimee whispered. She looked at Jennelle and Millie. Each of them silently worried that Selena would try to fulfill her promise.
Cecilia Wentworth watched as the looks of fear filled her daughters’ faces. “Don’t let Charles concern you girls so. He will see through Selena Hall. She is more transparent than she believes.”
Aimee turned to her mother. “You know about Selena?”
Cecilia scoffed. “Well, not until tonight. But it became obvious that Charles was this year’s catch after seeing her try to corner him all night. She looked too pleased with herself when she finally did. That seemed to happen near the time you had your accident, Millie. Did you happen to see them?”
Millie tried to sound indifferent. “I believe he was laughing as he escorted her out into Lady Bassel’s garden.”
Cecilia smiled to herself. Charles and Millie would make an excellent couple. That afternoon, her son had been so adamant about Millie leaving—not Jennelle, just Millie. Now, Millie’s very strong reaction to Selena’s flirtation had Cecilia convinced it would be her adopted daughter, not Selena Hall, who would become the next Lady Chaselton.
Cecilia would have to be careful and ensure the proper distance was maintained. On the other hand, with these two stubborn, independent creatures, a certain degree of proximity was critical to success. And if two people ever needed each other, it was Charles and Millie. He would be her anchor, her steady rock. She would be his salvation, bringing life into all the dark crevices he never let anyone see. Even as a child, Millie was the one person who could unsettle her all-too-composed son.
“Oh, isn’t that nice. It is so good to hear that Charles is laughing again,” Cecilia commented blithely.
Millie clasped her hands together and looked out the carriage window. The arrogant man deserved that she-devil, she thought and then instantly retracted the words.
Cecilia continued. “So aside from Charles and the dreadful Selena, what did you think of the evening?”
All three sat in silence, unable to think of a response. They didn’t want to spin tales, but how could they relate how very dull it had been?
Looking at her charges, Cecilia wished Millie’s mother were here. She would be able to make them understand. “Come now. I know that it was ghastly, but what delightful tidbits did you discover? Please tell me you observed something in the few hours we were there.”
Blinking several times, Aimee ventured, “Mother, are you saying that you knew we were not enjoying ourselves?”
Cecilia sat back and chuckled. “Of course, I knew! Believe me, when Millie’s mother and I went to our first ball, we were just as miserable. But we learned to make our own fun. To do that, we first had to discover who the players were,” she said with a wink.
Millie sat back and grinned. “Lady Bassel wears a wig.”
Aimee shot up, looking at her with wide eyes. “She does not! Does she?”
Jennelle piped in. “She does. I saw her repositioning it in the powder room when she didn’t think anyone was watching.”
“Sir Gant wears a girdle,” Aimee added, not to be bested.
Millie bristled. “I know. I felt it when he asked me to dance with him. Doesn’t he realize that a lady would notice?”
Cecilia smiled and stated, “Probably believes that you think he is strong and athletic.” She relaxed against the cushions, listening to her prodigies relate all they had heard and seen. She was pleased they could so easily spot the people who possessed sincerity and those who played others false. Yes, tonight had gone exceedingly well.
Chapter 5
The next morning Millie decided to forgo joining the others in the dining room. She had been awake for most of the night and her patience to endure the chatty conversations that often accompanied the morning meal was limited. Unlike her nocturnal self, all of the Wentworths—Aimee, Charles, and their mother—were morning people with the strange ability to rise before nine o’clock. And though awake, without the fortitude of sleep Millie did not think she could answer any of the questions that were likely to arise—such as the status of her dancing slippers.
After what seemed to be an interminable amount of time, her stomach refused to let her wait any longer. Millie opened the doors to the dining room, hoping the morning crowd had left to continue their conversations in the salon. But as soon as she entered, her hopes of sneaking quickly in and out died.
“Millie, glad you have finally arrived, my dear,” Cecilia Wentworth said as she rose to greet her. “It seems you were a complete success last night. Already you have received three invitations from gentlemen callers.”
Cecilia subtly observed Chase’s demeanor abruptly change from partial awareness of the conversation to keen interest. The mention of Aimee’s and Jennelle’s callers had not had the same effect. Cecilia smiled to herself, feeling quite contented. Chase was definitely interested in Millie—more than he realized.
Hearing how the Daring Three had already created a stir among the
ton
did not come as a surprise to Chase. All three had been completely captivating. Jennelle’s auburn hair and shapeliness had fascinated the men—that is, until she revealed her intelligence or their lack of it. His sister, the classic Society beauty, also delighted those who had met her. Yet it was Millie, with her stunning dark hair and petite features, who had stood out in last night’s crowd. She had conducted herself impeccably, comporting herself as the daughter of an earl seeking to be a duchess. She had laughed and smiled and appeared to all to be having a lovely time. After a single encounter, men were entranced by her charm.
Before the Season was over, Millie would be surrounded by would-be suitors desperate to enjoy even one kiss. He knew. He was already one of them. And Chase wasn’t sure he liked the idea.
 
 
“I’m already dreadfully bored,” Aimee mumbled, looking warily around the much smaller party, which included both dancing and a musical interlude by a woman who could not sing. The three of them huddled close to one another, each afraid that at any moment some large, uncoordinated man would grab them for another dance.
“Bored? I would sincerely love to be just bored. I cannot express the pain I am suffering even at this very moment. My toes have been trampled mercilessly,” Millie moaned as she kicked off a slipper and reached down to rub her aching feet. “I told you we should have attended the theater again.”
“Millie, good Lord!” Jennelle hissed. “What if someone should see you?”
Millie rolled her eyes and continued her massage. “Hopefully they would realize that I absolutely do
not
want to dance again. Besides, no one can see me with the two of you standing there.”
Jennelle crossed her arms. “This is ridiculous. We have been in Town less than two weeks, and the only respite we seem to have found is in complaining. We need to find something besides these silly parties to amuse ourselves.”
“Exactly! We need a new adventure,” Millie exhorted as she quickly stood. The plan to keep Selena Hall away from Charlie had been somewhat successful, but not completely. Not only did it entail attending one boring function after another, it required constant vigilance. Unless the Three were willing to entertain the idea of causing bodily injury, Miss Hall was going to find ways to force herself into his company.
Jennelle began pacing as she tapped her finger against her lips. “Well, there are Society meetings.”
“And I understand there are some very interesting museums,” Aimee piped in.
Millie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Museums? Society meetings? Do I know either of you? We need excitement,
adventure
.”
Jennelle elbowed Aimee and whispered in her most medieval brogue, “Beware what cometh next. The sorceress plots even now and shall lead us unto temptation.”
Undaunted, Millie continued. “We could always dress in costume and venture toward Vauxhall Gardens.”
Aimee gasped. “Mother would kill you—and us.”
Millie ignored her friend’s warning. “There is also Astley’s Royal Amphitheatre. I read a circular telling of circus events such as horseback riding, clowns, and acrobats. Oh, how I have always wanted to see acrobats.”
Having been subjected to the repercussions of similar conversations, Jennelle grabbed Millie’s arm. “Millie, it just is not done. Well-bred ladies do not attend such events. Especially unmarried ones, as we three are.”
“Jennelle, when did you become such a priss? What do you care if someone thinks me boisterous and unladylike? I am no more playing at deception than any one of us is. You know you would rather be reading a book than pursuing a man. And you, Aimee, you pine away for Reece, all the while pretending to be available and interested.”
“Enough,” Aimee said forcefully. “Everyone is right. These parties
are
boring. We all want adventure, yet we all know we cannot pursue the things that inspire us. Jennelle, I know how frustrating it has been, speaking with those who are ignorant and have no interest in expanding their minds. And as for me, I do want Reece, but, for Mother’s sake, I am trying to at least appear flexible. And despite tonight’s mumblings, you have been wonderful, Millie. The
on-dit
is that you are quite the original, but if anyone got a whiff of how original, we would all be doomed.”
Millie frowned, and after a brief moment nodded her head. “Perhaps you are right. There must be some acceptable adventures around us. We just need to find out where.”
Aimee and Jennelle exchanged looks. Millie’s acquiescence had come a little too easily. They would have to keep their eyes open and ensure she did not get herself—and them—into trouble.
But despite their fears regarding Millie’s growing restlessness, the remainder of the party continued as it began—eventless. At least for them.
All evening, Selena Hall had contrived ways to be near to, speak to, or literally hang upon, Chase. Millie could not understand why the woman and her scheming ways bothered her, but they did. So much so that even during the carriage ride home, she could not focus on the conversation.
Sitting across from her, Chase was also pensive and quiet. Millie wondered if his silence stemmed from the absence of Miss Hall’s company. With each encounter, the time he spent with her grew.
“Did you see Mr. Gerthing, Jennelle?” Aimee asked, completely shocked by what had happened.
“Of course I saw. Everyone did. Including Mrs. Gerthing . . . finally. It was awful.”
The buzz inside the Wentworth carriage was filled with awe and shock. Only Millie and Chase remained silent as the others discussed the one notable event of the night.
“I heard someone say Mr. Gerthing has been acting in this lewd manner for years.”
“And Mrs. Gerthing only noticed tonight?” Jennelle shook her red head in disbelief.
Aimee shrugged her shoulders. “Appears so.”
“I don’t believe it. We were there only a few hours, and all of us noticed it. Mrs. Gerthing may be a dull-witted woman, but she is not blind,” Jennelle replied, skeptical that anyone could be so imperceptive.
“Some women only see what they want to,” Cecilia offered.
Jennelle countered, “How can you miss seeing your husband squeeze women’s derrieres all evening? And I cannot believe that rumors of his appalling behavior have never met her ears.”
“I’m just glad he did not attempt such a move on me,” sighed Aimee, shaking her head.
“I, also, am thankful to have escaped. But a strange little part of me wished he had attempted his uncivilized stunt on our Millie, though,” Jennelle mused aloud.
Aimee nodded. “It certainly would have spiced up the evening.”
The sensation of possession and protectiveness suddenly surged through Chase, causing him to respond before he considered how his abrupt reaction would be perceived. “He didn’t touch you, did he?” His voice was low, demanding, and the question was directed toward Millie.
Jennelle noticed the swift change in Chase’s body and tone and silently wondered at its meaning. Aimee, however, was oblivious to her brother’s sudden reaction. “Hah, I only wish.”
Confused, Chase asked, “Why would you want someone to mistreat Millie?”
His sister smiled as if she knew some great secret. “Not just someone—Mr. Gerthing. And the reason is that he wouldn’t have gotten away with it as he did with all the others. Probably the worst thing that is going to happen to the man is that he finds himself sleeping in the parlor for the next fortnight. If Mr. Gerthing attempted such a stunt on our Millie, he would never be able to paw a woman again.”
“I see,” Chase replied skeptically.
Jennelle carefully regarded his doubting expression. “I doubt that you do. Millie?”
Millie turned to look at her friend. “Yes?” she replied, speaking for the first time since leaving the party.
“What would you have done if Mr. Gerthing had tried any of his revolting antics on you?”
Millie narrowed her eyes. Jennelle’s question had mysterious and duplicitous undertones. “I am not altogether positive how I would have responded.”
Jennelle took a quick sidelong glance at Chase and decided to press the issue. “Yes, you do. How much of the toad would you have damaged? His hand? His arm? How about his smug face? I would have loved to see that pompous expression wiped off it by one of your fancy moves.”
Millie rolled her eyes. “My, look who is being dramatic now.” She took a deep breath and exhaled. Jennelle was about to ask again when Millie put a hand up to stop her. “Enough. Yes, I most likely would have disabled his hand. And depending on what he did and where, his injury would have been permanent. Satisfied?” she asked, not expecting a reply. Feeling strangely uncomfortable discussing her skills in front of Chase, Millie moved the carriage window’s thick brocade curtain aside, hoping to find something outside to focus on.
Chase regarded her for several seconds as she stared out the small window. She had meant every word. Millie truly believed she could inflict harm on a much larger and stronger man. And while the concept seemed ludicrous, he knew it to be otherwise. “I have no doubt that you could.”
Chase’s low, serious tone compelled Millie to glance at him, and she was instantly seized by his heated gaze. The others in the carriage disappeared and she became aware of only Chase and the mysterious pull growing between them. It frightened her, but she could not look away. Then Aimee leaned forward, cutting off their intense gaze. Millie felt herself yanked out of their private realm and was back in the carriage. She immediately resumed her study of the passing buildings and fought to steady her racing pulse.
Aimee lightly tapped Chase on the knee. “You would be amazed at what she can do, Charles. Millie is quite the expert in defense. She has taken on and defeated every stable lad we have ever had. She is so good they run and hide anytime she comes near.”
Chase sat back and contemplated the delicate-looking woman who had just been declared quite dangerous. “Is that so?”
Millie dropped the brocade, sat back, and quietly stared at him. Chase knew Aimee spoke truthfully. And he knew why.
As an adult, Millie was considered petite, but that was only after she had had two summers of highly welcomed growth spurts. Before those blessed years, she had been constantly teased and harassed by bigger and older children. That was, until Charlie came along one day and witnessed such an occasion. Outraged, he secretly worked with her one summer, teaching her ways to protect herself that did not require girth, but speed and accuracy. No longer believing herself helpless and vulnerable due to her small size, Millie had begun to seek adventures wherever she could find them.
The carriage rolled to a stop, and the footman hopped down to open the door. Chase and Millie were the last two to emerge. Before she could join the others, Chase reached out for Millie’s gloved hand. Her pulse was beating at an accelerated pace, and his lower body tightened in response. “So you continued practicing?” he whispered for her ears alone.
She looked directly at him with gentle eyes full of gratitude. “That summer you gave me the greatest gift anyone has ever given me. You gave me the ability to be me.” Millie held his gaze for several more seconds before turning to follow her friends inside.
Chase watched her disappear, still mesmerized from their silent exchange. Millie was evoking feelings he had never expected to experience upon his return to London. He had come back for one purpose. To complete his father’s mission.
Eischel had either failed to receive word he had arrived or was unable to meet. Neither boded well. Chase had only one other option: to continue with his original plans. But one misstep and the traitor would end Chase’s life. The possibility of becoming sidetracked was unacceptable.

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